Detached
by Jackimee
Summary: Troy and Abed have a conflict and Abed is more upset about it than he knows how to be. Annie tries to help him.


Annie awoke to Troy's unusually grave voice saying, "Man, that's _enough_, Abed." She heard him leave the blanket fort and approach the table, and she inconspicuously opened her door.

Abed had followed him and proceeded to sit across from him at the table. "You're mad at me," he said, observing.

"Yeah, I am," Troy responded, matter-of-factly. "You _know_ that I hate it when you bring that stuff up, and you still won't shut up about it." He took a goldfish cracker from the bag on the table and munched it, looking down. Annie wondered what "stuff" he was referring to, and she eyed her friends silently through the cracked door.

Abed looked concerned, but was basically expressionless. Pointing a finger harmlessly toward Troy, he said, "Actually, I didn't know that."  
>"Yeah, of course you didn't," Troy mumbled, not looking up. There was silence, except for Troy crunching goldfish, and Abed's face was stony as he looked at his friend. Annie opened her door fully, ignored if not unseen, and she ached seeing this tension between her roommates. She burst forward as if she hadn't heard a thing.<p>

"Good morning, guys!" she said, and sat down equidistant from the two of them.

They both responded, "'morning," but Troy left for the bathroom and Abed retreated to the blanket fort.

Annie sat alone at the table for a moment, trying to wake up and fully grasp this unusual situation. Frowning, she reached for the bag of goldfish, but then changed her mind upon considering how long they'd probably been left out. In one swift movement, she made up her mind, got up, and knocked on the fort.

"Abed…" she called, cautiously.

"C'min," he said. She walked in to see him sitting on the bottom bunk, slouching with his elbows resting on his knees. His mouth was scrunched slightly to one side and he was deep in thought. Annie sat down gently next to him. "What's going on with you guys?" she asked after a moment. Abed seemed to have been considering the answer to that question since he left the table.

"Troy's really been getting frustrated with me lately," he said. "There are things I do and things about me that bug him, but I'm not very good at picking up on what they are. Then, he gets mad when I don't realize quickly enough." He said all of this analytically, seemingly unaffected as if talking about a complex movie scene. Annie seemed to immediately find her place on his "side."

"Well… that's _his_ problem!" she said, clearly more affected than Abed. "He's your best friend; he knows you have certain limitations. He shouldn't expect you to magically overcome them just because he doesn't know how to communicate."

Abed's eyes seemed to light up then, and he looked at Annie.

"You're right," he said.

Annie smiled at him, but her heart sank a little bit. Maybe she shouldn't have gotten involved…

Annie jumped slightly when they heard the bathroom door open followed by Troy's footsteps, and she and Abed quickly exited the fort a moment later. Troy eyed them for a moment. Although he was clearly irked, he migrated to his chair by the TV, probably trying to avoid any further confrontation. Annie was tense as she watched Abed walk into the kitchen. He returned with a can of orange soda and approached the table, and Annie was relieved that he hadn't said anything to Troy.

Suddenly, Abed stopped. He turned around. He marched up to Troy.

"Troy, you should learn to communicate more effectively," he said.

Annie shut her eyes, and Troy turned to Abed. "What?" he sighed, impatiently.

Abed continued, "You know that I have trouble reading people, so it's not my fault if you're not getting your point across."

He gave a shrug that seemed more passive-aggressive than he had intended, and he passed Annie to sit down at the table. Troy hadn't moved yet, but now his nostrils flared and his jaw stuck out as he glared in Abed's general direction. He got up.

"Not your fault?" He said, restraining his anger. "No, it's _never_ your fault." He started to raise his voice ever so slightly as he walked over to Abed. "You can just blame everybody else because of your social ineptness, and nobody ever blames you."

"That's not true," Abed said, shaking his head.

"Yes it is!" Troy responded. "You can do whatever the hell you want because everyone thinks it's adorable or not your fault. You can rub things in my face to your heart's content and then just claim that you '_didn't know it bothered me.'_" He looked at Abed with exhaustion. "I know you don't pick up on some stuff, but man, it's not my responsibility to make sure you do."

Abed still seemed relatively unaffected, and he responded quickly.

"That's debatable," he said, prompting Troy to shut his eyes for a second in exasperation, "but what were you referring to when you accused me of rubbing things in your face?"

Troy was frustrated, and he paused for a moment to get a hold of the question.

"Well, just what would you call what you're doing right now?" he said. "You know… We both know that it kills me how much more athletic you are than me. And how much more everybody seems to love you." The increasing severity of his voice made a crease form between Abed's eyebrows. "And how much cooler you are, and how much more on top of things you are, without even trying. So if you only have _one flaw_, why do you still refuse to take fault?"

Upon seeing Troy's semi-suppressed anger and Abed's wall slowly crumbling, Annie thought about chiming in, but she realized it wouldn't be her place. She didn't know what to say anyway.

"You and I were… you know, bros, for the longest time," Troy said, shaking his head, "but to be honest man, I'm getting kinda tired of this."

He turned toward the door, but Abed wasn't finished:

"So you're jealous of me," he concluded, and Troy turned back to him.

"You know what, you can go to hell, Abed!" He shouted, almost snorting because he was still trying not to shout. Fumbling to find his keys, he said to Annie through his teeth, "I'm going to my parents' house. I need to get away from this… emotionless… _asshole_."

The door slammed, and Annie still stood in the middle of the apartment, and the silence was deafening.

She looked at Abed, who was still staring at the door, brow furrowed.

"Abed…?" She said, tiptoeing toward him and sitting down in the chair to his right. She did not know whose "side" she was on anymore, and the situation seemed to fall from a heavy context she was unaware of. She placed a hand on Abed's back and looked at him, waiting for a response.

His face had lost color and he still seemed to be intently studying the afterimage of Troy. Soon, though his face did not falter, his chest rose and fell more quickly. He swallowed hard.

Annie's eyes fluttered. "Abed—"

"I feel sick," he said suddenly, still not looking at her.

Annie panicked. Abed, now wide-eyed, gave a single violent cough, followed by a gasp. Annie said his name, and a few other things, but he began not to hear her.

Far behind Abed's outer layer, he was facing a feeling he did not understand. It made his stomach churn and his head grow dizzy, and it brought him a sense of urgency. His hands began to shake, so he clutched his knees. Staring downward, his thoughts raced. He felt he was about to scream, or vomit, or perhaps pass out. He knew something was coming, but he didn't know what. Annie's voice spun in his head, he took a breath, and-

He was gone. Abed's face and body relaxed, leaning against the table, and his still-open eyes stared at nothing in particular. He was no longer attached to reality.

Annie was holding the open bag of goldfish in front of Abed, which she had grabbed when she thought he was going to be ill. She shakily put it back on the table and looked at her friend, her lip quivering.

"Abed," she called hopelessly and gently sat him up. Leaning forward, she studied him. His dark eyes were empty. Unseeing. Annie wondered where he was, and feared that she didn't know how to find him. She let out a half-sob and hugged him, trying to squeeze him into awareness, but he did not reciprocate or move. Drawing her face back so her cheek pressed against Abed's, she felt his heart beat in his chest. But then she felt, on her face, a tear that she knew was not hers. She backed up and looked Abed in the eyes. They were filled up - spilling out - cold black holes. His face was only very slightly crumpled. Annie sighed in both relief and empathy: he was hurt, but at least he was here. "Oh… Abed," Annie sniffled and pulled him close. Abed let his face fall onto Annie's shoulder and he cried, sobbing silently except for his labored inhalations.

Annie held him and gently rubbed his back. She felt how raw Abed was then, feeling every word his best friend had said to him, being forced into painful lucidity. His shoulder blades heaved slightly with each sob and she steadied him until he began to steady himself.

Abed took a deep, sniffling breath, which seemed to act as a conclusion. He opened his mouth and breathed out in a short-lived sigh as he picked his head up off of Annie's shoulder. The two of them looked at each other. Annie felt as if she were seeing Abed for the first time. There was still tension in his forehead, but his eyes showed a presence that had never been revealed to Annie before. "Yes, I'm in here," they seemed to assure her. Abed blinked his wet lashes and he glanced down at himself for a moment. He seemed to become aware of something.

"Sorry," he said flatly, turning his head back to Annie.

"Oh, no-no-no, it's okay," Annie assured him kindly. There was a silence, and Annie struggled to think of what to say. Abed did not notice the tension.

"It's been a weird morning;" he said, "I think I'm gonna go get some more sleep." He got up toward the blanket fort, but then turned around. "Or watch something," he said, pointing at the TV and rerouting in that direction. But Annie did not want to lose him so quickly.  
>"Abed," she said, following him. "I think we should talk."<p>

Abed did not answer, but it was not because he had detached again. It was simply because he could not think of what to say, and he knew that Annie would understand that. The two sat down in front of the TV, and once Abed turned it on, he became engrossed. Annie, on the other hand, remained engrossed in her concern as she watched Abed's distant and tired eyes.

Several minutes later, the sound of the door unlocking reached them. Annie gasped and turned; Abed merely blinked.

"…Abed," Troy called, humbly meandering into the apartment.

Annie held her breath and looked to Abed, who glanced downward and inhaled the inclination to get up. He did so after a moment, and approached Troy by the fort. Troy spoke quietly, obviously practicing a more appropriate level of discretion than he had a few minutes ago. But Annie could still hear.

"Listen…" he started. "I overreacted." He was genuine, but Abed was solemn and said nothing. Troy continued, appearing to swallow his pride. "I've been going through a lot of stuff lately… Maybe there are some things we need to work out, but that was no reason to talk to you the way I did. I'm sorry man."

First there was only a suspended moment, but Abed swiftly raised his right hand toward Troy and his left over his chest. The two smiled as they completed their reconciliatory handshake. Annie was comforted by the familiar _clap-clap._

Annie turned back to the television and overheard a few words exchanged by her roommates that she could not quite make out. She figured she was probably not meant to hear anyway. Then, Troy strolled over to her.

"Hey, uh," he grunted, sitting down in the chair Abed had been in, "I'm sorry about all of that."

Annie still felt unresolved. She smiled and nodded in her formulaic forgiveness.

"What are we watching?" Troy asked, turning to the TV.

"Uh… I don't know," she answered half-heartedly, as she looked back to Abed, who had not moved from in front of the blanket fort. He stood motionless for a few more seconds, but then retreated into his room behind the sheets, concealed once again.


End file.
